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SEND NO FLOWERS




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  SEND NO FLOWERS

  Sandra Brown

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  Contents:

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

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  Chapter 1

  ^»

  It was probably the cutest tush he had ever seen.

  Through the screen door he had an unrestricted view of it, a derrière roundly feminine, but trim. Denim fringe, bleached and curled from years of laundering, clung to taut, slender thighs.

  She was on hands and knees, peering into and hesitatingly poking at the fuse box near the baseboard. As she leaned down farther to investigate the intricacies of the switches, the man smiled a slow, cat-with-mouse-trapped smile of masculine pleasure. It was the smile of a gratified voyeur. He was a little ashamed of himself. But not ashamed enough to stop looking.

  The cabin was dark. Her flashlight gave off a meager glow. The only real illumination came from fierce flashes of blue-white lightening.

  The two boys watching her efforts were growing increasingly restless.

  "I'm hungry. You said we'd eat as soon as we got here."

  "Do you know how to turn the lights on, Mom? I bet you don't."

  The man at the door saw her head fall forward between her shoulders in an attitude of defeat. It lasted for only a moment. She raised her head determinedly as she drew in a deep breath. "It's just a fuse box, David. When I find the breaker switch, the electricity will come back on. It must have been tripped by the storm. And, Adam, we'll eat as soon as I can get the lights on and unload the car."

  "You said the cabin was gonna be great. I think it stinks," David complained. "We should've used tents."

  "Yeah, tents," the younger brother seconded.

  "If you don't think I can turn on the breaker switch, what makes you think I could put up a tent?"

  The rising impatience in the young woman's voice was unmistakable and the man at the door didn't blame her for it. But the two little boys looked so bedraggled that he couldn't blame them for their complaining either. They were only kids and had apparently spent hours traveling. Their arrival at the lake cabin had been inauspicious, to say the least.

  He had seen the headlights of their car when they arrived. A few minutes later, he decided to brave one of the most tumultuous thunderstorms in recent history and walk to the cabin only a hundred yards from his. That hundred yards was through dense woods, which guaranteed the owners of the cabins privacy. Walking through it in a thunderstorm had been foolhardy, but he had become concerned for his neighbors. His electricity had gone out about ten minutes before their arrival and God knew when it would come back on.

  Now as he listened to the whining of the boys and the near desperation in the young woman's voice he was glad he had chanced the woods. She needed help and she was alone. At least there was no husband and father in evidence.

  "We should've stopped at the Burger Town. David and I wanted to eat there, didn't we, David?"

  "I knew this was gonna be a jerky camping trip. I wanted to use a tent and camp for real, not stay in a dumb cabin."

  The young woman rose up to sit on her heals, hands on hips. "Well, if you're such a pioneer, you can go out in the rain and start hunting or fishing for our supper." The boys felt silent. "I've had it with you two. Do you hear me? The cabin was graciously loaned to us. Since we don't have a tent and know nothing about them, I thought it was best we take up the offer to use it. I can't do anything about the storm. But I'm trying my best to get the electricity back on. Not stop the complaining!" She matched her stern tone with an intimidating glare and returned to her fanny-in-the-air position to futilely inspect the fuse box.

  Glumly the brothers looked at each other and shook their heads. They were convinced their trip was doomed to disaster. "Do you think she can fix the 'lectricity?" the younger asked the older in a loud whisper.

  "No, do you?"

  "No."

  Now was the time to make his presence known. He had never been a window peeper and was ashamed for having stood outside this long without letting them know he was there. But he was enjoying them. They were in no immediate danger. Their tribulation somehow endeared them to him. He found himself smiling at the comments of the two boys and the parental frustration of the woman. Maybe watching their dilemma was acting as a panacea for his own. Observing them had certainly taken his mind off his problem. Albeit unfair, that was human nature.

  It was also human nature for him to feel a shaft of desire spear through him each time he gazed at the display of bare thighs and that incredibly delectable tush. That wasn't fair either. It was downright lechery to lust after a wife as well as the mother of two young boys. But could a man be held responsible for his thoughts?

  "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom." It was Adam who spoke.

  "Number one or number two?"

  "Number one. Bad."

  "Well, since we haven't located the bathroom yet, go outside."

  "It's raining."

  "I know that, Adam," she said with diminishing patience. "Stand on the porch under the roof and aim out."

  "Okay," he mumbled and turned toward the door. "Hey, Mom."

  "Hmm?" She was dickering with one of the switches.

  "There's a man out there."

  The young woman spun around, toppled backward and gasped in alarm. "A man?"

  Quickly, hoping not to frighten her, he switched on his high-beam flashlight and caught in its paralyzing spotlight an impressive chest straining against a chambray workshirt tied in a knot at her waist, a tumble of blond hair that had escaped a haphazard ponytail, and wide blue eyes.

  Alicia Russel gulped in air and held it, her heart pounding. A brilliant flash of lightening silhouetted him where he stood just outside the screen door. Had she locked it behind them? Would it matter? He looked huge and fearsome against the stormy sky. And he was coming in!

  He pulled the screen door open. It was ripped from his hand by the force of the wind and crashed against the outside wall. She and the boys cowered. He rushed across the room and dropped to his knees in front of where she lay sprawled. Her eyes were blinded by his flashlight. She could no longer see him except as a looming hulk bending over her. She opened her mouth to scream for her boys to run.

  "Are you alright?" He switched off the light and for a moment everything was black. "I didn't mean to scare you. Here, let me help you up."

  Alicia recoiled and the hand extended to her was withdrawn.

  "I'm f-fine," she stuttered. "Startled, and that's all." She pulled herself to her feet without his assistance. Her first concern was for her sons, who were eyeing the stranger curiously. "David, go help Adam … uh … do what he has to do on the porch." If she was going to be raped and murdered, she didn't want her sons to witness it. God, where was the telephone? Why didn't the lights come back on? Who was this man and where had he come from? Her heart was banging against her ribs and pounding on the inside of her eardrums.

  "Hi," David chirped. Alicia cursed herself for teaching her children to be courteous and friendly. "I'm David. This is Adam. I'm the oldest."

  "Hello," the man said. Alicia thought he smiled, but it was so dark, she couldn't tell. Her flashlight had flickered out and he had kept his turned on. "My name is Pierce."

  "David—" Alicia began, only to be interrupted by her eldest.

  "We're gonna camp here for a week, but Mom can't turn the lights on. She's not too good at things like that."

  The stranger looked in her direction, then back down at the boys. "Few moms are. But she couldn't have turned the lights on anyway. The power's off because of the storm."

  "Da-vid," Alicia ground through gritted teeth.

  "Why don't you take your brother outside," the stranger suggested, "while I see if I ca
n help your mom."

  "Okay. Come on, Adam."

  The screen door slammed behind them and the man turned to Alicia. "You're off to a bad beginning. The campers aren't too happy."

  If he were a rapist and murderer, he was a polite one. But then it was said the Boston Strangler had been, too. And Jack the Ripper. "I'm sure once the electricity comes back on and they get something to eat, they'll be in a better frame of mind." There, that sounded good. Unafraid, in control, cool, calm, capable.

  "Where are your lanterns? I'll light them for you."

  So much for cool, calm, and capable. "Lanterns?" Employing that gesture that is universally used by women to give them an air of indifference and make them appear less stupid than they feel at the given moment, she reached up and made patting, straightening motions on her hair. She also gave the frayed hem of her cutoffs a swift, hard tug. "I don't know. The cabin is borrowed and I didn't have a chance to look around."

  "Candles?"

  She shook her head.

  "You didn't bring any emergency equipment with you?"

  "No, I didn't," she snapped testily, hating the incredulity in his voice. It made her feel imbecile. This was the first camping attempt she had braved with her sons. How good was she supposed to be the first time out? "We'll be fine when the power comes back on."

  "Why don't you wait out the storm in my cabin? We'll have to walk through the woods, but it's not far."

  "No," she rushed to say. He had made her feel even more incompetent than she already did. That irritation had taken her mind off the possible danger he posed. But her panic quickly resurfaces when he mentioned their going to his cabin.

  "That only makes sense. I can cook something for the boys on a butane stove."

  "No, really, Mr. … uh…"

  "Pierce."

  "Thank you, Mr. Pierce, but—"

  "No, Pierce is my first name. Pierce Reynolds."

  "Mr. Reynolds, we'll manage. I don't want to leave the cabin."

  "Why?"

  She could hear the boys playing on the front porch, letting the rainwater splash on the palms they extended past the overhang. "My … my husband plans to join us later tonight. We should be here when he arrives or he'll be worried."

  "Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck in indecision. "I hate to leave you alone under the circumstances. Why don't we leave him a note and tell him where you are?"

  "Hey, Mom, we're starving," David said. He and Adam had tired of the game and trooped back inside. "When can we eat?"

  "We're starving," Adam echoed.

  "I really think it would be best if you came to my cabin."

  "I—"

  Before Alicia had a chance to object, the man turned to the two boys. "How does chili sound? If you come back to my cabin with me, I can have it heated up in no time."

  "Gee, neat. That'd be great," David said enthusiastically.

  "Neat," Adam said.

  "But you'll have to walk through the woods to get there," the man warned. "There's no road to drive your car through."

  "We don't mind, do we, Adam?" They were already racing toward the screen door.

  "Boys!" Alicia called after them frantically, but they heedlessly dashed outside.

  "Come on, Mrs.—?"

  "Russel."

  "Mrs. Russel. I can't leave you and the boys here alone. I promise I'm not someone you need to be afraid of."

  Just then another flash of lightening rent the sky in two. Alicia thought the prospect of the power being restored was nil. She had been an idiot not to have come prepared for something like this but it was too late to do anything about it now. At least the boys could be fed. When the raid abated, they could come back and wait for morning.

  With a resigned sigh and a prayer that she could trust this man with her virtue and their lives, she said, "All right." The only thing she took with her was her purse. It would be insane to unload their bags from the car in the downpour.

  On the front porch, Pierce Reynolds lifted Adam into his arms and directed David to take his mother's hand. "Okay, everybody, hold on tight. Mrs. Russell." For a long moment, Alicia stared down at the strong, lean hand extended to her. Than she placed her hand against it and he clasped it tightly.

  The rain drove against them like stinging needles. Wind tore at their hair and clothes and buffeted them about. Each time lightning flashed, Adam buried his face deeper into Mr. Reynolds neck. David tried his best to be valiant, but he was fearfully clinging to Alicia by the time they saw the other cabin through the trees.

  "Almost there, troops," Mr. Reynolds called over the roar of the storm.

  They reached the sanctuary of the covered porch just as a clap of thunder rattled the windowpanes. "Let's leave our shoes out here," Pierce said, setting Adam down. When they were all barefoot, he led them through the front door of the cabin, which was softly lit by two kerosene lanterns and smoldering coals in the fireplace.

  "I'm cold. How about everyone else?" Pierce crossed the room and knelt in front of the fireplace to stir the logs with a poker. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his three guests huddling uncertainly just inside the threshold. They were shivering. "David, bring me one of those logs, please." The boy picked a log from the box near the door and rushed it to the man who was definitely hero-material. "Thanks." Pierce ruffled the boy's wet hair. "You'll find towels for you and Adam and your mother in the bathroom."

  "Yes, sir," David said and ran toward the door that could only lead to the bathroom. The cabin was one large room serving as living room, bedroom, dining room and kitchen. Comfortable chairs and a sofa were arranged in front of the fireplace. A double bed was tucked under a drastically sloping ceiling, which was actually the bottom of a narrow staircase that led up to a sleeping loft. It was too homey to be rustic and was spotlessly clean.

  David emerged from the bathroom carrying a stack of folded towels. After first handing one to Pierce, he took them to his mother and brother. Alicia felt a sense of unreality. What was she doing here in this stranger's mountain retreat, alone with him in a veritable wilderness? It would have been bad enough if he were old and feeble, or kindly but pitifully ugly and ignorant. But their rescuer was handsome and suave and virile, something she hadn't known until they'd entered the cabin and she had seen him in the light.

  His hair was ash brown and threaded with silver. It was carefully cut to look carelessly styled and was worn a trifle longer than fashion currently dictated. When he turned his head Alicia had seen green eyes as brilliant as emeralds beneath a shelf of masculine brows. As he added the log to the coals and fanned it to life, well-developed muscles rippled beneath his wet cotton shirt, though his physique wasn't brawny.

  He made her inordinately nervous. Not because she thought he would harm them. No man would carry a little boy through a thunderstorm, murmuring reassurances that there was nothing to be afraid of, could be a murderer. As for being a rapist… Well, it was clear he would never have to force any woman.

  "I'm glad I decided to build a fire earlier tonight. It was barely cool enough then, but now—"

  Pierce stopped mid-sentence. Because if Alicia was surprised to find him so appealingly attractive, her reaction to him couldn't compare to the explosion in his chest and loins when he stood and turned to face her. Her hair was wet and silkily draping her cheeks, neck, and shoulders. The chambray was soaked and plastered against full breasts and nipples peaked hard from the cold. He had a helluva time keeping his eyes off them. Her bare feet only made her legs look longer and shapelier. They were covered with goose flesh he craved to warm with caressing hands.

  He dragged his eyes away from her, cursing himself and this sudden attack of rampant desire. He hadn't felt so compulsively desirous of a woman since… He had never felt so compulsively desirous of a woman. It baffled him. She was a wife and mother and doing absolutely nothing to entice him. In fact, she looked jittery and nervous, and if his expression revealed anything of what was going on between his thighs, he didn't blame her
.

  "I think we ought to get you out of those wet clothes. Why don't you take the boys into the bathroom and I'll see if I can find them something to wear."

  "All right." Alicia herded her sons toward the sanctuary of the bathroom, where she hoped she could will her breasts back into a state of repose. He had noticed her distended nipples. She knew he had.

  Several minutes later he knocked on the door, though it stood open to give them light. Adam and David had been stripped down to their underpants and Alicia was rubbing them with towels. "Chili is on the stove and I found these in a drawer." He held up two UCLA T-shirts.

  "Super," David said, grabbing one and pulling it on over his head. It hung to his knees.

  "Say thank you, David, to Mr. Reynolds for loaning you his shirt." She stood slowly, still painfully aware of her wet shirt and short cutoffs. When she had left Los Angeles that afternoon they were enjoying an unseasonable warm spell. For an automobile trip to the woods with David and Adam, the old cutoffs and shirt had seemed the perfect outfit.

  "Thanks, Mr. Reynolds," David said as he helped Adam with his shirt. The hem came to Adam's ankles.

  "You're welcome, but the shirts aren't mine. This cabin belongs to my company. Everyone uses it and leaves things behind. I'm sure they'd never be missed if you want to keep them."

  "Gee, can we?" The boys raced out looking like two friends of Casper the Ghost. They were happy now that they were warm and dry and dinnertime was imminent.

  "I'll have to look a bit further to find something for you." Somehow Pierce kept his eyes on her face, which wasn't hard to do at all. Her hair was beginning to dry around the edges and it coiled beguilingly along her cheek. And, God, did she have a kissable mouth. His insides were groaning.

  Alicia shifted from one bare foot to the other. "I'll dry out in a minute. Don't bother." Despite his resolution, his eyes drifted downward. "Maybe we'd better get them fed," she said hurriedly, and pushed past him. The boys were already sitting at the table where four places had been set. There was a basket of saltines and a tray of sliced cheese and apples in its center. A pan of chili was steaming on the portable butane stove.